


Payment

by Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs



Series: TF Anon Kinky Meme Fills [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Begging, Double Penetration, Forced Prostitution, Foreign Objects In Valve, Implied Swindle/Vortex, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Voyeurism, Kink Meme, Kinky sex, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Money Fetish?, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8232910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs/pseuds/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs
Summary: A collection of chaps of fills for a single TF Anon Kink Meme. Revolving around Swindle and Smokescreen in different chapters.Request Link: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=15825301#t15825301





	1. Smokescreen X Blitzwing & Astrotrain - Payment For Services

**Author's Note:**

> SmokescreenXAstrotrain&Blitzwing
> 
> Warnings for chapter:  
> Forced Prostitution  
> Foreign Objects In Valve  
> Non Con  
> Rape  
> Rough Sex/Oral Sex (Reference)  
> Double Penetration

Smokescreen moaned from his place between the two triple changers, optics flickering with each thrust Blitzwing or Astrotrain gave, nothing more than a shivering valve with which they could vent their arousal and frustrations.

 

"Look at vee little slut!" Blitzwing groaned from his place behind the small Praxian, nuzzling against the colourful mech's faceplates, Astrotrain offering a grunt as he gave another rough thrust, dragging a keen from the smaller mech's vocalizer.

 

Shaking, Smokescreen arched against Astrotrain when the shuttle ground against his ceiling node, vocalizer spitting static as his valve clenched at the stimulation, drawing moans out of both bigger mechs, the Praxian feeling sick as servos wandered over his frame and stroked his sides and chevron. His vents struggled to draw cool air in from around him, but being boxed between two of the biggest frame types on Cybertron they were only drawing in the heat the two other mechs pumped over him.

 

The heat and pleasure were unbelievable, even if unwanted, and Smokescreen screamed as he overloaded for the third time in a joor, vocalizer shorting out as his valve squeezed down on the two spikes as much as it could, dragging the other two over the edge with him.

 

"Slag... Best frag I've had in a LONG time." Astrotrain growled, Blitzwing laughing from behind the little pleasure mech. "Didn't I tell you Swindle had the best merchandise?" He asked, the shuttle snorting as he gripped Smokescreen's chin and forced the dazed mech to look up at him. "I like 'im this way... Undrugged. Pretty little thing." Astrotrain hummed as he swiped a thumb digit along the smaller mechs lower lip component before pressing it into the warm orifice between them, the dazed Praxian suckling on it as the bigger mech rumbled with approval. "Shame Swindle already took his seals."

 

Smokescreen barely listened anymore. It was work... He  _owed_ Swindle a lot of credits, and this was the only way he could pay it back, locked up in the club his former lover owned, forced to give himself to random mechs. A warning slap drew him back to the present as he looked up at Astrotrain, blue optics lighting a little brighter as he suckled at the large digit, making the shuttle laugh. "He sure does his job." He grunted, Blitzwing purring as he lifted Smokescreen up off their spikes and discarding the squirming mech onto the berth beside them.

 

Standing, the gray mech patted Smokescreen's faceplating in a taunting way. "I enjoyed myself, little bot. I'll be sure to visit again." He purred, Smokescreen seeming to become a little more coherent as the big mech turned to leave, scrambling on the thermal sheets, whimpering. "W-w-wait!" He tried to call, the plea coming out as more of a croak than anything else. It got the big mech's attention regardless, the shuttle turning crimson optics onto the shivering mech that shrank at the look. "What?" The sharp tone draw a flinch from the blue and yellow mech, whimpering as he tried to find the words. "Y-You have to p-pay me.. Please... Sw-sw- _master_ will be m-made if you d-don't." He whimpered, shrinking back from the look he received.

 

Blitzwing gave that crazy laugh of his from where he lounged back against the mountain of pillows, watching the proceedings in amusement, Smokescreen looking genuinely frightened, optics wide and overbright, doorwings pressed close to his backstruts as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

 

"Very well." Astrotrain hummed darkly, optics becoming a deeper red as he looked at Blitzwing. "Blitzwing, if you will restrain him." He purred, the triplechanger moving faster than a mech his size should be able, grabbing one of Smokescreen's ankles and jerking the struggling mech towards him.

 

"Please! I'm sorry! Please don't! I can't take anymore!" Smokescreen keened as Blitzwing wrapped an arm around his chassis, arms pinned to his sides, his legs spread almost obscenely over the triple changer's knees, whimpering.

 

Astrotrain approached now, a smirk on his faceplates as he climbed back onto the berth in an almost sensual way, crawling over to Smokescreen until their olfactory ridges almost brushed, causing the pleasure mech to flinch back. "Forgive me for my...  _Oversight_." The massive mech purred, Blitzwing giving a laugh.

 

Smokescreen shut his optics tightly, fluids still running down his aft from where it dribbled from his valve, Blitzwing's spike against his backstrut leaving wet streaks as he waited for... Something. A hit, penetration, anything that would hurt. But, when nothing happened, he onlined his optics to find Astrotrain holding a credit chip in front of him, making him frown in surprise.

 

"I'll make sure you're master gets his credits little slut." Astrotrain hummed in a deep basitone as he moved the credit down and pushed it into his  _valve_.

 

Gasping at the cold metal against his insides, Smokescreen let out a whimper, squirming as Astrotrain pushed a second chip in, digit swirling around the shared fluids in the once tight orifice, pulling it out with a soft, wet  _pop_.

 

Smokescreen shook, watching as Astrotrain pulled out several other chips, running them along the swollen outer lips of his clenching valve, the colourful bot moaning as the shuttle pushed those credits in, the sharp cold slowly fading as his valve warmed them, the clenching pushing one glistening chip out to land on the berth, drawing a growl from the shuttle. 

 

Astrotrain picked up the credit that had slipped out and pressed it against Smokescreen's lips. "Clean it." He ordered roughly, Smokescreen hesitantly parting his lips, choking when two fat digits were roughly forced inside, rubbing the chip against his glossa before pulling out again, drool dribbling from the corner of his lips.

 

Held tight in Blitzwing's grasp, Smokescreen could only moan as more credits were pushed into his valve, the sensation of cold, the sensations of several individual objects shifting around inside him slowly building charge up again, Astrotrain's digits playing at his external sensor node not helping things at all. "P-Please sir... They're not gonna s-stay-" Smokescreen cut himself off when Astrotrain snarled at him. "They'll stay in there, or I'll shove them down your throat!" He rumbled in warning, the gambler's optics widening as he tried to tilt his hips upwards to keep gravity from allowing the credits to slip out. "Humph." Astrotrain grunted over Blitzwing's moan. "Better."

 

Time passed slowly as Smokescreen's valve was slowly stretched to accomodate more and more credits, eventually drawing the younger mech towards overload, whining and moaning in arousal before Astrotrain deemed it enough, getting off the berth with a sharp slap to the overstuffed valve, drawing a cry from the colourful mech. "There's your payment, slut. Make sure your master get's it." The shuttle leered, Blitzwing pouting. "But I vasn't done!" He whined in complaint although he stood to follow his companion, leaving the shivering mech on the berth.

 

No sooner were the arguing pair gone that Swindle appeared, looking down at the shivering mech with amusement in those purple optics. "Get up Smokescreen. We gotta clean you up." He ordered, though not out of care for the other mech.

 

Shaking, Smokescreen began to stand, Swindle eyeing him now. "Where's the credits?" He demanded with a low growl. "I told you, Smokey, if you let customers walk out without pa-oh." Swindle stopped his rambling when Smokescreen stood upright, several credits falling out of his valve in a colourful shower around his shaking legs, the salesmech letting out a sound of amusement and arousal.

 

Smokescreen wasn't given a warning as he was shoved back down onto the berth, Swindle climbing over him. "Lay back and let me get those beautiful little credits out of you." The jeep purred smoothly, Smokescreen whining as a glossa laved over his oversensitive sensor node, servos going up to grip the edge of the berth above his helm... So much for getting cleaned up.


	2. SmokescreenXSwindle - NOTICE ME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swindle doesn't notice Smokescreen enough.

Swindle onlined with a soft moan, helm throbbing gently in passive protest of all the engex he had ingested the previous nightcycle.

 

Still groggy, Swindle lifted a servo to grasp at his aching helm, purple optics flickering on in surprise when his servo remained in place above his helm, a soft rattling only adding to his growing state of alarm. Had he cheated someone the nightcycle before?? Of course, all of his deals were completely  _ fair _ , but some seemed to think otherwise…

 

“I see your lazy aft decided to wake up.”

 

Swindle’s helm jerked to the side at the sound of a familiar voice, large purple optics locking onto a familiar frame, allowing the jeep to relax now. “Really, Smokey?” The con-mech huffed in complain, jiggling a chained servo to emphasize the point of his exasperation. 

 

Smokescreen stared at the bound mech with a neutral expression on his faceplates, none of the usual amusement present. “What about them?” The tri-coloured mech finally asked, tone cool and smooth like the sweetest highgrade.

 

Blinking, Swindle eyed the praxian, unsure of what was going on now… Because something was  _ definitely _ going on. “Why are they… Why am I chained to the berth??” The tan mech finally questioned in bewilderment.

 

“In a rush?” Smokescreen asked his lover in a sultry purr, crawling up onto the berth like a feline, that maddening smirk curling his lips upward.

 

“Smokey, I-” Swindle swallowed as Smokescreen’s helm rested on his abdomen, glossa slowly slipping from between the praxian’s perfect lips to slide across the jeep’s abodminal plating. 

 

“ _ Smokescreen! _ ” Swindle whined, vents hitching as the wet glossa laved over his plating, leaving a trail of oral fluids in it’s wake. “S-Smokey, I’ve got a b-big business deal toda-”

 

That white and red helm lifted, faceplates the perfect picture of dissaproval. “No. No you don’t.” The praxian responded in a calm tone.

 

Swindle opened his mouth to protest, but his lover beat him to it. “You don’t  _ ever _ spend time with  _ me _ !” Smokescreen growled, looking a great deal more than irritated.

 

Venting, the jeep fought the urge to roll his optics. “I hadn’t been under the impression you were so needy.” Swindle responded, realizing his mistake when blue optics flashed in frustration, the tan mech rushing to correct himself. “We talked about this, Smokescreen. I gotta lot of work to do, so I can’t be doing this as often as you might like.”

 

Smokescreen remained still at his lover’s side, optics searching the Combaticon’s faceplates before he spoke again, voice low. “And yet you find the time for pleasurebots and Vortex.” 

 

Purple optics widened slightly in surprise, Swindle fighting back a wince. “We-uh… Talked about that too?” He tried, expression hopeful.

 

Glaring at the bound mech, Smokescreen’s servo suddenly connected with a tan thigh, a resounding  _ SMACK _ filling the room, the praxian relishing the yelp of surprise that made itself known. “Want to lie to me again, Swin?” Smokescreen asked, that seductive pur back in his tone now. 

 

Swindle could only stare at his lover incredulously, mouth open but no sound coming out. “S-Smokey! Vortex… He’s my  _ brother _ I can’t help if I-” the jeep cried out when Smokescreen’s servo connected with his thigh twice, one after th other. “Doesn’t mean you have to frag him more than you do me.” Smokescreen responded, voice maddeningly calm.

 

“OK! OK!” Swindle cried desperately, hips jerking away from Smokescreen in preparation for another slap to his throbbing thigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll frag you more if that’s what you want, but I really got a business meeting to get to, so can you-” The jeep cried out at the sudden slap, the second drawing a whimper, the third a moan.

 

Smirking triumphantly, Smokescreen climbed over the jeep, dropping down on his abdomen, legs straddling the smaller mech. “You really think I’m going to let you go now?” The praxian purred, leaning down to nuzzle into the combaticon’s throat cabling, chevron poking Swindle’s cheek. 

 

The con-mech could only moan helplessly as his lover ground down, the jeep all too aware of the lubricant dripping onto his plating and smearing with Smokescreen’s grinding. “Please, Smokey.” Swindle whined helplessly, feeling his spike stir in interest.

 

Cocking his helm, Smokescreen leaned down to capture Swindle’s lips in a burning kiss, swallowing his lover’s moan as his glossa slid into the combaticon’s mouth, mapping it out.

 

Swindle shut his optics and lifted his helm from the berth, pressing into the kiss, returning the passion as much as he could in his bound state, the praxian pulling away with a parting nip to his lower lip component. “You love credits too much.” Smokescreen whispered, although there was a hint of fondness there.

 

Lifting himself from his perch, Smokescreen crawled down between Swindle’s legs, gently pushing them aside to make room for himself between them.

 

Swindle could only watch with wide optics as his lover cast him a cocky smirk before Smokescreen’s helm vanished between his spread thighs, the jeep moaning at the first swipe of a glossa against his warming panel. “Please, Smokey.” Swindle gasped out, servos clinging to the chains as if it were his lifeline, letting out an array of sounds to each lick, nibble or suck. It didn’t take much to get his valve panel to slide aside.

 

Letting out a grunt of triumph, Smokescreen pushed his thumb digits between Swindle’s outer lips, spreading them wide to bury his faceplates into his lover’s valve, licking and nibbling as Swindle bucked and pleaded above him. Smirking in approval, the praxian pulled away with a parting kiss to the interested anterior node, sitting up.

 

Staring at his lover through lust-hazed optics, Swindle whined and bucked his hips. “C’mon, Smokey. You can’t leave me like this,  _ please! _ ” The jeep pleaded, heat curling through his lines at the sight of Smokescreen’s lower faceplates smeared with lilac lubricants.

 

“Patience, Swin.” Smokescreen responded in a teasing tone. “After all, you left me without a good frag so many times, didn’t you?” The praxian hummed, doorwings ever expressive in his amusement. 

 

Swindle groaned in complaint, helm thunking down against the berth with a soft  _ clang _ , venting heavily in an attempt to calm his over-heating frame when something cool touched his valve lips. Jerking his helm upright, overly large purple optics flickering down to the place between his thighs, the jeep’s vents hitched at the sight of Smokescreen pushing a faintly glowing coin into his valve. “S-Smokey?”

 

Enjoying the initial surprise, Smokescreen raised his optical ridges at his partner’s question, not looking up. “Yes, Swin?” The praxian asked innocently, thumb digit pressing the energon-coin further into the clenching depths of Swindle’s valve.

 

“Wha-what’re you doing??” Swindle gasped out, backstrut arching slightly as the coin slide deeper, moving with the rhythmic clenching of his valve to tink against the very back of his valve, drawing a long whine from the jeep’s intake. “Please!”

 

Smokescreen chuckled softly, pulling another coin from the bag he had brought along, running it up and down the slightly-swollen valve lips before pressing it too into the depths. “I’m going to fill your valve with what you love.” The praxian responded calmly. “Then I’m going to frag you into oblivion, just so you can understand that credits can melt away, but I won’t.”

 

Staring down between his trembling thighs, Swindle watched with wide optics as another coin was pressed into him, then another, followed by another, and another. The procession of coins never seemed to end, and the jeep gradually felt himself being filled. “Please, Smokey.” Swindle moaned out, frame trembling so hard that he was surprised his plating wasn’t rattling. “Ugh!” The jeep cried out as a digit pressed into him to swirl around the blue-tinted lubricants of his valve.

 

Smokescreen chuckled softly, feeling that there was still enough space for him to fit more coins, pulling his digits free with a soft  _ pop _ . 

The jeep whimpered as the lubricants began to break down the energon coins, feeling a trickle of something that wasn’t lubricant -the substance being too thin- and groaned. “Smokey you’re wasting credits!” Swindle gasped as a couple more were pushed into his valve, the praxian leaning over him to claim his mouth, the two moaning in unison.

 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Smokescreen smirked down at his lover, palming the other’s valve, rubbing firmly at the swollen outer lips and anterior node. “Credits filling you up, slowly melting away to dribble out and soak the berth?” The gambler snickered, landing an open-palmed smack to Swindle’s valve, drawing a yelp. “Filthy.”

 

Swindle shuddered at the husky arousal he could hear in Smokescreen’s voice, bucking his hips upwards, a few half-melted chips slipping out of his valve to leave a sticky mess over his aft. “ _ Smokey _ .” 

 

Chuckling, Smokescreen’s spike panel slide open, the praxian slowly stroking himself as those impossibly large purple optics followed every movement. 

 

“What’re you doing?” Swindle questioned, the static-laced question amusing Smokescreen, as did the hitch in the jeep’s vents when the tip of that delicious spike rubbed against his weeping valve. 

 

“Fragging you,” the tri-coloured mech responded with a purr, pushing the first bit of his spike into the quivering valve.

 

Swindle whined as he felt credits shifting aside with Smokescreen’s steady inward push, each one pressing or rasping against his nodes as his valve was so wonderfully stretched. “Smokescreen!” He gasped out, bracing his pedes against the berth and pushing down against his lover.

 

Deliberate. Slow and unceasing, Smokescreen pushed into Swindle until his hips ground against that pert aft. “Mhm. Not much room left in here… We’ll have to start stretching you.”

 

Impaled and trembling, Swindle could only moan in response, his charge ever growing as he lifted his helm from the berth to watch as Smokescreen withdrew. The white, red and blue spike glistening in lubricant and energon.

 

Smirking, Smokescreen slammed himself back in, causing Swindle to cry out in surprise and pleasure, the sudden change in pace quickly working him into his first overload. “ _ Smokescreen!!” _

 

Smokscreen laughed in response to the cry, leaning in close to his lover’s audios. “This is what I want.” He purred out in a whisper, a hot exvent ghosting over the sensitive metal and causing Swindle to moan. “And if you don’t give it, I’ll take it.”

 

The steady slide of Smokescreen’s spike, coupled with the shifting and pressure caused by the coins, Swindle’s charge quickly ramped back up until he found himself on the cusp of overload. 

 

“Sound like a fair deal?” Smokescreen questioned, Swindle nodding mutely, optics a pale lilac with the pleasure. As he writhed and whimpered with the praxian’s every movement, nearly delirious in pleasure. 

 

Looking down at his pleasure dazed companion, Smokescreen smirked. “Perfect.”


	3. Reminder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swindle's been neglecting Smokescreen... Smokescreen teaches him a lesson. (It's a re-edit of chapter 2. Different sort of theme of the last part. I might make changes to the rest as well sometime in the future...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3rd (and currently final) installment of "Payment" hope you enjoy.

Swindle onlined with a soft moan, helm throbbing gently in passive protest of all the engex he had ingested the previous nightcycle.

 

Still groggy, Swindle lifted a servo to grasp at his aching helm, purple optics flickering on in surprise when his servo remained in place above his helm, a soft rattling only adding to his growing state of alarm. Had he cheated someone the nightcycle before?? Of course, all of his deals were completely _fair_ , but some seemed to think otherwise…

 

“I see your lazy aft decided to wake up.”

 

Swindle’s helm jerked to the side at the sound of a familiar voice, large purple optics locking onto a familiar frame, allowing the jeep to relax now. “Really, Smokey?” The con-mech huffed in complain, jiggling a chained servo to emphasize the point of his exasperation.

 

Smokescreen stared at the bound mech with a neutral expression on his faceplates, none of the usual amusement present. “What about them?” The tri-coloured mech finally asked, tone cool and smooth like the sweetest highgrade.

 

Blinking, Swindle eyed the praxian, unsure of what was going on now… Because something was _definitely_ going on. “Why are they… Why am I chained to the berth??” The tan mech finally questioned in bewilderment.

 

“In a rush?” Smokescreen asked his lover in a sultry purr, crawling up onto the berth like a feline, that maddening smirk curling his lips upward.

 

“Smokey, I-” Swindle swallowed as Smokescreen’s helm rested on his abdomen, glossa slowly slipping from between the praxian’s perfect lips to slide across the jeep’s abodminal plating.

 

“ _Smokescreen!_ ” Swindle whined, vents hitching as the wet glossa laved over his plating, leaving a trail of oral fluids in it’s wake. “S-Smokey, I’ve got a b-big business deal toda-”

 

That white and red helm lifted, faceplates the perfect picture of dissaproval. “No. No you don’t.” The praxian responded in a calm tone.

 

Swindle opened his mouth to protest, but his lover beat him to it. “You don’t _ever_ spend time with _me_!” Smokescreen growled, looking a great deal more than irritated.

 

Venting, the jeep fought the urge to roll his optics. “I hadn’t been under the impression you were so needy.” Swindle responded, realizing his mistake when blue optics flashed in frustration, the tan mech rushing to correct himself. “We talked about this, Smokescreen. I gotta lot of work to do, so I can’t be doing this as often as you might like.”

 

Smokescreen remained still at his lover’s side, optics searching the Combaticon’s faceplates before he spoke again, voice low. “And yet you find the time for pleasurebots and Vortex.”

 

Purple optics widened slightly in surprise, Swindle fighting back a wince. “We-uh… Talked about that too?” He tried, expression hopeful.

 

Glaring at the bound mech, Smokescreen’s servo suddenly connected with a tan thigh, a resounding _SMACK_ filling the room, the praxian relishing the yelp of surprise that made itself known. “Want to lie to me again, Swin?” Smokescreen asked, that seductive pur back in his tone now.

 

Swindle could only stare at his lover incredulously, mouth open but no sound coming out. “S-Smokey! Vortex… He’s my _brother_ I can’t help if I-” the jeep cried out when Smokescreen’s servo connected with his thigh twice, one after th other. “Doesn’t mean you have to frag him more than you do me.” Smokescreen responded, voice maddeningly calm.

 

“OK! OK!” Swindle cried desperately, hips jerking away from Smokescreen in preparation for another slap to his throbbing thigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll frag you more if that’s what you want, but I really got a business meeting to get to, so can you-” The jeep cried out at the sudden slap, the second drawing a whimper, the third a moan.

 

Smirking triumphantly, Smokescreen climbed over the jeep, dropping down on his abdomen, legs straddling the smaller mech. “You really think I’m going to let you go now?” The praxian purred, leaning down to nuzzle into the combaticon’s throat cabling, chevron poking Swindle’s cheek.

 

The con-mech could only moan helplessly as his lover ground down, the jeep all too aware of the lubricant dripping onto his plating and smearing with Smokescreen’s grinding. “Please, Smokey.” Swindle whined helplessly, feeling his spike stir in interest.

 

Cocking his helm, Smokescreen leaned down to capture Swindle’s lips in a burning kiss, swallowing his lover’s moan as his glossa slid into the combaticon’s mouth, mapping it out.

 

Swindle shut his optics and lifted his helm from the berth, pressing into the kiss, returning the passion as much as he could in his bound state, the praxian pulling away with a parting nip to his lower lip component. “You love credits too much.” Smokescreen whispered, although there was a hint of fondness there.

 

Lifting himself from his perch, Smokescreen crawled down between Swindle’s legs, gently pushing them aside to make room for himself between them.

 

Swindle could only watch with wide optics as his lover cast him a cocky smirk before Smokescreen’s helm vanished between his spread thighs, the jeep moaning at the first swipe of a glossa against his warming panel. “Please, Smokey.” Swindle gasped out, servos clinging to the chains as if it were his lifeline, letting out an array of sounds to each lick, nibble or suck. It didn’t take much to get his valve panel to slide aside.

 

Letting out a grunt of triumph, Smokescreen pushed his thumb digits between Swindle’s outer lips, spreading them wide to bury his faceplates into his lover’s valve, licking and nibbling as Swindle bucked and pleaded above him. Smirking in approval, the praxian pulled away with a parting kiss to the interested anterior node, sitting up.

 

Staring at his lover through lust-hazed optics, Swindle whined and bucked his hips. “C’mon, Smokey. You can’t leave me like this, _please!_ ” The jeep pleaded, heat curling through his lines at the sight of Smokescreen’s lower faceplates smeared with lilac lubricants.

 

“Patience, Swin.” Smokescreen responded in a teasing tone. “After all, you left me without a good frag so many times, didn’t you?” The praxian hummed, doorwings ever expressive in his amusement.

 

Swindle groaned in complaint, helm thunking down against the berth with a soft _clang_ , venting heavily in an attempt to calm his over-heating frame when something cool touched his valve lips. Jerking his helm upright, overly large purple optics flickering down to the place between his thighs, the jeep’s vents hitched at the sight of Smokescreen pushing a faintly glowing coin into his valve. “S-Smokey?”

 

Enjoying the initial surprise, Smokescreen raised his optical ridges at his partner’s question, not looking up. “Yes, Swin?” The praxian asked innocently, thumb digit pressing the energon-coin further into the clenching depths of Swindle’s valve.

 

“Wha-what’re you doing??” Swindle gasped out, backstrut arching slightly as the coin slide deeper, moving with the rhythmic clenching of his valve to tink against the very back of his valve, drawing a long whine from the jeep’s intake. “Please!”

 

Smokescreen chuckled softly, pulling another coin from the bag he had brought along, running it up and down the slightly-swollen valve lips before pressing it too into the depths. “I’m going to fill your valve with what you love.” The praxian responded calmly. “Then I’m going to frag you into oblivion, just so you can understand that credits can melt away, but I won’t.”

 

Staring down between his trembling thighs, Swindle watched with wide optics as another coin was pressed into him, then another, followed by another, and another. The procession of coins never seemed to end, and the jeep gradually felt himself being filled. “Please, Smokey.” Swindle moaned out, frame trembling so hard that he was surprised his plating wasn’t rattling. “Ugh!” The jeep cried out as a digit pressed into him to swirl around the blue-tinted lubricants of his valve.

 

Smokescreen chuckled softly, feeling that there was still enough space for him to fit more coins, pulling his digits free with a soft _pop_.

 

He felt so  _full!_ Arching his backstruts and moaning helplessly, Swindle could only tremble in arousal as Smokescreen crammed his valve full of the energon-coins, the jeep shivering as his lover's helm disappeared between his legs again, a warm exvent over his exposed array nearly driving him mad with the need to overload. The slide of the coins in his valve had served in keeping him on the brink of overload, but never quite pushed him over the edge.

 

A warm lick had Swindle groaning softly, servos tightly gripping the chains that held him in place, Smokescreen taking his ime to lick at the energon-flavored lubricants dribbling out of the smaller mech's valve as the coins gradually meltedwithin the warm confines of such an intimate place.

 

"Smokey,  _please_." Swindle gasped when the larger mech responded with a sharp nip to his blinking node, causing it to throb needily.

 

"So impatient." Smokescreen murmured, slinking over the trembling mech's frame to press his swollen spike against the achingly-empty valve, Swindle moaning as he received a kiss, the tri-colored mech's sticky with energon and lubricants. The con-mech could taste himself on the other, and it only made him want for more as the thick spike nosed at his wanting valve, Swindle pressing his hips upwards in hopes of convincing it to aid him in overloading.

 

Swindle felt the curl of lips against his own as Smokescreen continued his insisten kissing, one servo moving down between their bodies to guide his spike to the weeping valve, pushing inside in one steady push that had the jeep mewling with pleasure. Pulling out slightly, the praxian pulled away from the kiss, servos supporting the weight of his upper body as he slammed back into Swindle, grinding  _hard_ against his ceiling nodes.

 

The slim, tan mech let out a choked cry as he finally tipped over the edge into a hard overload, Smokescreen all but stopping as he grinned down at the smaller mech, spike buried to the hilt as he watched the smaller mech writhe beneath him, blue optics focused on the pleasure in the other's faceplates.

 

Coming down from the bliss of overload, Swindle panted softly as he looked up into the devilish smile of the younger mech, whining softly while rolling his hips upwards to try and coax the praxian to continue his ministrations. "C'mon, Smokey! Stop teasing!" He pleaded.

 

"First agree that you'll pay more attention to me." The colorful mech ordered.

 

Swindle scowled. "Fine, I agree to-" his words were overwhelmed by static when Smokescreen gave another hard thrust, jostling the bound mech as pleasure flared up through his systems. "I agree! Just finish me up!" The jeep cried, moaning helplessly when his words were rewarded with another pleasurable grinding of a spike against his ceiling nodes, Swindle whimpering as Smokescreen picked up the pace.

 

Overload after overload flew by, with Swindle writhing and pleading as he was impaled on the familiar spike again and again, the room filled only with the sounds of interface and mechs in the throes of pleasure. By the time they'd finished, Smokescreen was the very picture of triumph, and Swindle's valve throbbed happily, the jeep well aware of the fact that he would be sore for the next few cycles.

 

"Frag... I don't think I've overloaded like that in a long time." Swindle groaned as Smokescreen unlocked the chains that bound him. "Don't you forget who does it for you." The tricolored mech answered mischievously before pushing himself up to his pedes. "I doubt Vortex will." He added.

 

Swindle sat up in surprise, optical ridges furrowed in confusion. "What? What do you mean?" He questioned loudly.

 

Smokescreen only cast a wicked grin over his shoulder before vanishing into the washracks.


End file.
